"His life will be at your disposal."
"Do you promise this?" cried Wyat.
"Ay," replied Herne. "Put yourself under the conduct of Fenwolf, and all
shall happen as you desire. We shall meet again at night. I have other
business on hand now. Meschines," he added to one of his attendants,
" go with Sir Thomas to the skiff."
The personage who received the command, and who was wildly and
fantastically habited, beckoned Wyat to follow him, and after many
twistings and turnings brought them to the edge of the lake, where the
skiff was lying, with Fenwolf reclining at full length upon its benches.
He arose, however, quickly at the appearance of Meschines, and asked
him for some provisions, which the latter promised to bring, and while
Wyat got into the skiff he disappeared, but returned a few minutes
afterwards with a basket, which he gave to the keeper.
Crossing the lake, Fenwolf then shaped his course towards a verdant
bank enamelled with wild flowers, where he landed. The basket being
opened, was found to contain a flask of wine and the better part of a
venison pasty, of which Wyat, whose appetite was keen enough after
his long fasting, ate heartily.
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